


Shadows of the Mind

by orphan_account



Series: Requiem of Memories [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers up to and including the Runaway Bride (2006 Christmas Special)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everywhere he looked, there were shadows waiting to jump out at him, but he would survive. He was oh so very good at that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadows of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Spoilers for "Doomsday" and "The Runaway Bride." Also a very angsty Doctor.

He sat, loosely folded into the jump seat, listening to the thrum of the TARDIS engines and pretending that the sound didn't echo in his ears and remind him just how empty the room was. For a few hours the room had seemed alive again: full and bursting with Donna Noble. Loud, argumentative, brave Donna Noble. But also smart and intelligent Donna Noble who knew better than the run off with strange (sad, broken) men, no matter how much adventure they might promise her. Not every girl showed that kind of foresight.  
He immediately felt a little rush of shame. Of course it was far better to have had his little pink and yellow girl for a little while than to have not had her at all. He would rather have the memories of running hand and hand with her, but oh how how scanty they seemed next to the expanse of years without her. And how how small the years before the Time War seemed to the years ahead…  
His heart was beating too fast now, his breaths coming too quickly, and so he stood quickly, as if resolute enough movements would force the memories away. But even as he stood, a far too familiar purple shirt hanging over the railing caught his eye and almost sent him spiraling back down into his own head.  
He felt his ship's gentle touch in his mind, carefully nudging old memories away from the forefront of his mind, trying to tell him to put it away. And so he did. He grabbed it and strode down the hallway and hurled the door open to an all too familiar room.  
The door slammed into the wall, and as the crash echoed through the empty hallways, he found that the room was just as she had left it. The bed was unmade, some of her clothes were scattered on the floor. It even still smelled like her. He stepped into the room, his face carefully blank, and methodically began to clean up after the girl who would never come home. Every piece of clothing was gently put away, the bed was made up neatly. Only when everything was in its proper place did he stop and stand in the center of the room, looking around. Soon, he knew, the scent would fade and be replaced with the regular and familiar old TARDIS smell, but the memories would stick around longer. His memory was good, sometimes he thought far too good, for them to fade.  
But he could run. He was oh so very good at that. He turned and strode from the room, shutting the door behind him.  
"Lock it, please." He asked out loud, a signal for her to remove herself from his mind (a signal which he noticed she blatantly ignored). She obeyed immediately, but he could feel her concern wrapping around his spine and working its way into every corner of his mind.  
"What are you worried about," he snapped bitterly, leaning against the door. "I'm a survivor, remember?"  
"I'm so very good at surviving," he murmured, all the fight going out of his posture as he slowly slid to the floor. "So very good."

**Author's Note:**

> Rewritten from FF.net as a part of a collection of loosely related drabbles.


End file.
